


Wow look some angst

by Magikorps



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: levi is a smol sad sinnamon roll that should be protected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 22:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4937527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magikorps/pseuds/Magikorps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Now, they're dead."</p>
<p>"And it's your fault."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wow look some angst

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before Levi's backstory came out, so this is just a little drabble I wrote a long time ago that I never got to posting anywhere :') It was gonna be Eruri // well I mean its probably gonna be Eruri if I decide to actually finish this up sometime since I'm a lazy shit

Drip. Drip.

A sickening sound resounded throughout the forest, followed by a spray of warm liquid on his face.

They're..

——–

Cold onyx orbs stared down at the man before him. His usual blank and uninterested stare was replaced by a twisted look of pain, and anger. The soldier bit his lip and squinted his eyes. He was trying his hardest to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd cried.

He didn't want to start again. 

His arm extended forward, holding his sword against the other man's neck. He could not process why the sword in his hand trembled so visibly in his view. He probably look pitiful.  
He opened his mouth, a hot, shaky breath escaping his lips. 

"You lied,"words spilled from his lips, words seeping with venom.

The words dribbled from his lips like the crimson that slowly dripped from his chin, the crimson that decorated his face like paint. He wished it was paint.

He increased the pressure he was putting on the blond's neck, the sword pushing hard enough against the flesh to draw a small amount of blood. 

He gritted his teeth and spoke.

"Isabel Magnolia and Farlan Church. They were my best friends. No,"he bit his lip,"They were like family to me. The only ones I had left,"the small man felt a nauseating bile rising in his throat, as he remembered the body that lay on the ground, unmoving, unbreathing.

No longer alive.

He swallowed.

"Now, they're dead."he choked back a small sob,"And it's your fault."


End file.
